


If By Chance You See Within Me

by Purseplayer



Category: Glee
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe, M/M, older!blaine, prostitute!Kurt, younger!kurt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-02
Updated: 2014-07-30
Packaged: 2018-01-07 03:52:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1115149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Purseplayer/pseuds/Purseplayer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blaine and Sebastian are out trolling for prostitutes one night, but Blaine can’t abide with Sebastian’s choice.  AU, Age Difference, Klaine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> This is an ongoing series that I've thus far only posted on tumblr, but now I'm putting it here. Each chapter can stand alone, and they will not necessarily be posted in chronological order, but rather represent snippets of Klaine's relationship. I will specify in each chapter how far along we are in Klaine's relationship to avoid confusion.

Kurt shivers, pulling the flimsy jacket tighter around his body.  He hadn’t realized it would be this cold tonight or he wouldn’t have come here.  Then again, he needs the money for food, so he really didn’t have a choice.

He’s spent the past few hours going back and forth in his mind, uncertain if he wants a car to come around the bend or not, uncertain if he wants a car to _stop_.  It’s a game he hates to play, but for the past few weeks it has been his reality.  By now Kurt is cold and jaded; he desperately prays for a car—any car, but preferably a nice one.  Nicer cars mean better money; Kurt had learned that fast.  Tonight it might mean a warm bed that, if he’s really lucky, he might even be permitted to sleep in.

His thoughts are interrupted by the unmistakable whir of an engine, a Porsche coming too-fast around the corner and passing him up, then reversing just as suddenly, screeching to a halt.

The driver’s window rolls down and a leering face leans out towards him.  The man is younger, maybe around thirty, and handsome enough… which is good, great even, but Kurt can’t help but shudder at the lust that shines in his eyes.

“Hello pretty,” the stranger says.  “I’m Sebastian.  How much for a fuck?”

Kurt tenses, steeling himself as he meets the man’s eyes with more confidence than he feels, speaking carefully, evenly, “I don’t do fucks.  Fifty for a blow, forty for my hand, or it’s nothing.”

Sebastian laughs, and Kurt’s bravado begins to melt away.  “Come on now sweetheart, everybody has their price.  Go ahead and name it; try me.  I’ll do you right.”

Kurt shakes his head.  “I meant what I said.”

The man grins, clearly unwilling to give ground.  “How about we start at say… five-hundred?  I’ve got a nice place, and I wouldn’t say no to letting a pretty boy like you stay the night.  I’ll even throw in a hot meal; you must be cold and half-starved.  Come on, what do you say?”

Kurt gasps and quickly tries to hide it, but Sebastian has already seen and his grin widens impossibly, his eyes shifting, resembling nothing so much as a cat who has just pinned his prey.  “I…” he starts.  Five hundred is a lot of money, more than he’s been offered before; it could room and feed him easily for a week, maybe longer.  But he can’t—he won’t—be bought so easily.  A challenge, then.  “One-thousand,” he says shakily, certain the stranger will turn him down.

Sebastian whistles.  “You drive a hard bargain, babe.  But it looks like you’re worth it.  “Hop in,” he gestures with his head towards the passenger side of the car. 

Dread filling his entire being, Kurt hastens to obey.  _It’s just one night_ , he tells himself.  _It will be hard, but you’ll get through it.  You knew this would happen eventually.  Think about everything you can have afterwards.  Maybe it’s even enough to set up something better, and you won’t have to do this again._

Sebastian drives off as the door slams, paying Kurt no mind now that he is trapped inside, and Kurt is grateful for this small mercy.  He needs the time, the mental space to ready himself for the horrible night that is sure to follow.

A loud moan distracts him, and he turns toward it on instinct.  There are two men in the car’s backseat, both attractive, tangled together and grinding and kissing.  Kurt stares.  One of them looks vaguely familiar—Kurt thinks that maybe it’s Tony from the next street over—but with the poor lighting it’s impossible to be sure.

Sebastian chuckles beside him, his hand closing around Kurt’s knee.  “No need to mind them unless it turns you on, baby.  That’s just my boyfriend and his hook-up for the night.”

The hand squeezes; it feels too tight even though it isn’t, and Kurt fights the urge to pull away.  He doesn’t, _can’t_ say anything to Sebastian.  He doesn’t want to, doesn’t know what he would say even if he did.  They don’t speak for the remainder of the drive.

The car finally stops on a well-lit side street beside a fancy apartment building, and Kurt gapes at it for a long moment.  He’s certain he has never been inside a condo quite this nice before.  He startles to attention when Sebastian knocks loudly on his window and hurries to climb out of the vehicle.  The two men in the back have gotten out too; for the moment they are detached.  One of them _is_ Tony--he shoots Kurt a dazzling smile that Kurt can’t bring himself to return.  The other man is staring at him, his eyes a brilliant hazel and warm with concern.  Kurt flinches under the scrutiny.

“Can I speak to you for a moment when we get inside, Sebastian?” the man requests, still boring holes through Kurt.  Kurt looks away.

“Sure,” Sebastian answers.  The word is gruff, clipped, and he looks pissed.  Kurt has a sneaking suspicion that he already knows he isn’t going to like what the other man has to say.

The other man who apparently is his boyfriend.  Kurt doesn’t know how he feels about that, other than it won’t be the reason he turns down a thousand dollars.  Clearly the couple doesn’t have a problem with it, so why should he?

When they finally step into a beautiful foyer, Sebastian’s boyfriend immediately tugs him aside.  Tony looks bored and wanders around, trailing his fingers across the fine decorations, but Kurt strains to listen.  Fortunately, it isn’t difficult to overhear.

“Seb, he looks pretty young,” hazel-eyes is saying.  “He could be a minor, a runaway.  I don’t know if you should do this.”

Sebastian rolls his eyes.  “Here we go again, Saint Blaine,” he taunts, voice edged in annoyance.  “Look, he was out there, wasn’t he?  So what if he’s underage.  I’m doing him a favor; he definitely looks as though he needs the money.”

Blaine shrugs, but he doesn’t back down.  “Then pay him and let him go.  You can take my guy.”

“My guy’s better,” Sebastian snaps back.  “And _give him free money_ , what are you, crazy as well as stupid?”

Kurt thinks Blaine winces at that, but it’s difficult to tell.  “We can afford it,” he protests, weaker this time.  “Please Seb… this doesn’t feel right.”

Sebastian doesn’t answer for a long moment; he seems to be studying Blaine intently.  “You like him,” he says finally, the words clearly a challenge.

“Of course not, he’s a kid,” Blaine tries to argue.  Even Kurt can tell he’s lying.

“Alright Blaine, sure, you can have him.  It’s about time I brought you down a few pegs.  Just, I don’t want to hear any more accusations that I’m fucking _kids_ , okay?  No one likes a hypocrite.” 

Kurt watches him pat Blaine’s shoulder mockingly, and just like that he’s walking away, ignoring Kurt completely in favor of grabbing onto Tony and kissing him hard.  “You’re mine for tonight,” he tells him, tugging him away down the hallway and out of sight.

Dumbfounded, Kurt turns to Blaine, who is intently studying the floor.  He sighs loudly, only reluctantly looking up to meet Kurt’s eyes.  “Sorry about all that,” he offers sincerely.

Kurt can only nod his head.

“Ummm… would you like something to eat?  Sebastian was right about one thing; you do look like you’re starving.”

“I…” Kurt swallows thickly, willing his voice to work.  “You heard that?  I thought you were too _preoccupied_.”

Blaine laughs nervously, rubbing at the back of his neck.  “Yes, well… Sebastian was loud.  I think we have some leftover takeout from last night; you can follow me.”

After a moment’s indecision, Kurt does so.  He doesn’t want charity from this man, but it’s true that he hasn’t eaten since yesterday.  It doesn’t take much for his stomach to win the fight.  _Don’t get ahead of yourself_ , he cautions mentally, _you’ll probably still be servicing_ someone _tonight._

In minutes a large bowl of steaming rice, chicken, and veggies is set before him, the smell of Chinese wafting thickly through the air.  Kurt slides into a chair mindlessly and takes the spoon he is offered, happily shoveling a large portion into his mouth.

“So,” Blaine begins, taking the seat across from him.  “You want to tell me your name?”

Kurt starts to speak before remembering that his mouth is full, stops and holds up a finger.  After swallowing, he answers truthfully in one word. “Kurt.”

“And your age?” Blaine presses, watching as he eats.

Briefly, Kurt considers lying.  But this man has been good to him, and something in his eyes makes Kurt want to tell the truth.  “I’ve just turned seventeen,” he admits, only the tiniest hint of shame creeping into his confession.

“I see,” Blaine replies cryptically.  “So tell me, how does an innocent seventeen-year-old boy like you come into prostitution?”

Kurt snorts at the word innocent, but Blaine’s gaze doesn’t falter.  “Why don’t you tell _me_ why you and your _boyfriend_ were out trolling for prostitutes to fuck?” he shoots back.

Blaine looks thoughtful for a moment.  “If I’m honest with you, tell you want you want to know, will you promise to be honest with me in return?”

For the first time, Kurt pauses his eating long enough to look up and meet Blaine’s eyes, trying in earnest to read what lies behind them.  “How do you know my promise will mean anything?”

Blaine holds his gaze: challenge accepted.  “I don’t.”

They stay like that for a long while until finally, Kurt breaks the contact.  “Fine, I promise,” he concedes.  “But you go first.”

To Kurt’s surprise, Blaine doesn’t hesitate.  “Sebastian and I have been together a long time, since college.  I’ve always wanted to be monogamous, but I think he was only able to manage it for about six months.  Every time I caught him cheating, he promised to try, but it never lasted.  Eventually, I just agreed to an open relationship.  It’s been easier since I started doing it too.”

Kurt studies him carefully.  “You’re lying,” he concludes.

Blaine looks surprised, not a little uncomfortable.  “Of course not, why would you say that?”

“It hurts you just as much as before,” Kurt tells him confidently, “only now you feel guilty on top of that.  It’s not in your nature.”

Blaine is quiet for a few minutes, eyes fixed on his hands.  When he speaks it’s a near-whisper, “your turn now.”

Kurt lifts his eyebrows, guard carefully shifting into place.  If he’s going to trust Blaine with the truth, he can’t go getting emotional about it.  “A few months ago my father passed away from a heart attack.  My mother’s been gone for years.  The money ran out pretty quickly,” he shrugs pointedly, “so here I am.”

Blaine is staring at him again, eyes intent.  “That can’t be the whole story,” he insists.  “Surely CPS would arrange a guardian for you, or you would go into the foster system.”

It’s Kurt’s turn to look uncomfortable.  “They sent me to my Aunt,” he admits reluctantly.  “She’s… homophobic.  I ran away after the first day.”

“Oh Kurt,” Blaine says, reaching for his hand, sympathy shining in his eyes.  “I’m so sorry.”

Kurt yanks away from the touch instinctively.  “It’s alright,” he lies.  “It’s certainly not your fault.”

Silence falls between them for a time; it is Blaine who eventually breaks it.

“You’re finished eating,” he observes out loud, jumping up and gathering Kurt’s bowl and spoon, heading to the sink.  “My room is through the hallway, the second door on the left.  You’re welcome to use anything in the bathroom if you like.”

Kurt is surprised to hear that the couple has separate rooms, though maybe he shouldn’t be, but he files that information away for later, focusing instead on something more unsettling.

“Your room,” he repeats.  “You mean… of course you mean…” Kurt mentally chastises himself for being so stupid, for allowing himself to become so blindly comfortable.

Blaine looks over at him in alarm.  “Wait, what?” Kurt can see it in his face when he begins to understand.  “No, Kurt, of course I didn’t mean… _that_.  I only want you to be comfortable, offer you a place to stay.”

_Charity_ , Kurt thinks.  “I don’t mind,” he says.  “This is all too kind of you.  At least let me blow you… it’s nothing I haven’t done several times before.”  _At least for the past few weeks._

Blaine is looking at him oddly now, and Kurt can’t tell what he’s thinking.  It’s… discomfiting, standing on this ground, not knowing whether it’s safer to go right or left, if he’ll even have a choice.  He didn’t actually expect Blaine to take him up on his offer, but if he wants it…

“You’re still a virgin, aren’t you?” Blaine deadpans.  “At least in the strictest sense of the word.”

Kurt flushes, opening his mouth to deny it, but the words won’t come.

“But then why would you… Sebastian…?”

“A thousand dollars is a lot of money,” Kurt offers sheepishly.  “It would get me through a couple of weeks.”

Blaine looks almost angry; he’s shaking his head—maybe remembering the exchange he overheard in the car earlier.  “I could kill him,” he mumbles, more to himself.  He walks over to Kurt, reaching for his hands.

Kurt lets him take them.

“I want you to go to my room.  Take a long, hot shower if you like—a bath even.  There are clean pajamas in the dresser; help yourself, though they might be a little short.  Then rest.  I’ll sleep on the couch in my study; it’s very comfortable.”

Kurt looks at him, looks into his beautiful hazel eyes, and he knows he can’t say no, not now.  Not to _this_ man.  There is something undefinable between them, something that had formed over the short span of a meal that Kurt can’t begin to understand.  Somehow, they are connected.

“I don’t want to be a charity case,” he protests weakly, just for the sake of trying.

“You’re not,” Blaine tells him, squeezing his hands.  “You’re… you’re my friend.  Or I’d like you to be.”

Feeling tears prick at his eyes, Kurt blinks and nods gratefully.  This is what it feels like, when the walls come down.  To trust, to give in, to feel _safe_.  He had nearly forgotten.  “Friends,” he repeats.  “I think I’d like that.”


	2. Kurt gets a job

A week and a day after meeting Kurt, Blaine decides to brave the Cohen-Chang-Chang home on a Sunday morning, fully prepared to beg.

Kurt is still sleeping when he leaves the house, his arm curled around the pillow where Blaine places a note.  Sebastian has just left to attend Latin mass with his family as usual, so Blaine knows he’ll have at least four hours before his boyfriend will be home.

It takes him less than half an hour by subway to get where he needs to go.  He thinks they’ll be awake and he isn’t wrong; Blaine can hear a child wailing in the background and the strained call of “just a minute” when he knocks on the door.  A moment later it swings open, and he’s greeted by Tina’s flustered face.

“Blaine!  What on earth are you doing here?  I didn’t think you existed before noon on the weekends…”

“Yes, well, I have a proposition for you.  Can I come in?”

“Oh, sorry!  Yes, of course!”  She steps back to allow him to pass into the foyer of the old townhome.  He’s about to head into the living room when he glimpses Mike through the kitchen, pacing with a still squawking toddler, bouncing her in his arms.  Blaine smiles and lifts a hand in greeting, and Mike’s face brightens at the sight of him.  Charlotte quiets too, squirming in her father’s grip and reaching out for Blaine.  Mike brings her over, and Blaine happily scoops her into his arms and twirls her around.

“Blaine!” Mike echoes his wife.  “This is a nice surprise.”

“It’s good to see you,” Blaine tells him earnestly, then directs his gaze at Charlotte.  “You too!” he tells her, nuzzling against her cheek until she squeals in delight.

“He has a proposition for us,” Tina informs her husband, coming up behind Blaine and smoothing a hand over her daughter’s hair.

“Oh?” Mike’s face wrinkles in concern.  “You’re here on business?”

Blaine chuckles.  “It’s not what you’re thinking.  Not the café.”

“Good,” Mike says, expelling a breath.  “I hate working on Sundays.  Speaking of which, have you had breakfast yet?”

“No, why?  You wanna do brunch?”

“I’m up for brunch,” Tina declares.  “We’ll even pay, on one condition.”

Blaine lifts an eyebrow.

“ _You_ have to get this one,” she tugs at the foot of Charlotte’s sleeper, “ready to go.”

“No problem!” Blaine agrees with an easy smile.

Mike looks skeptical.  “Oh, you have _no_ idea…”

*******

An hour later they’re seated at the small diner around the corner with fresh cups of coffee, waiting on their food.

“So,” Mike says.  “About that ‘proposition’…”

“Yeah,” Blaine looks up from where he’s been stirring in some creamer.  “I, ummm… are you guys still looking for a nanny?”

Tina flushes, her grip tightening around her mug.  “We… well, that is…”

“I know it’s been six months,” Mike answers for her.  “Tina’s just… very concerned about getting the right person.  Someone we can trust to meet Charlotte’s needs.”

“I understand,” Blaine says, suddenly feeling nervous.  “I might have a candidate for you.”

“Oh?”

“Just… hear me out, okay?  Last week I made a new… _friend_.  His name is Kurt.  He’s only seventeen, but he recently lost his father and his Aunt didn’t…” he pauses, considering his next words carefully, “ _approve_ of his orientation.  So he’s been staying with me.”

Tina eyes him suspiciously, reaching over to take a sleeping Charlotte from her husband’s arms.  “Does he have any experience with children?”

Blaine can feel heat rising to his face.  “I don’t actually know.  I didn’t tell him I was going to ask you guys this.”

“Blaine, I’m not sure we can…” Mike’s words are weighted, measured, his tone apologetic.

Tina shows no such restraint.  “What are you, nuts?  You can’t expect us to leave our baby with some strange kid with no experience, Blaine.  That’s too much!”

“I wasn’t asking you to!” Blaine exclaims, a little desperate.  “I was just hoping that maybe you’d be willing to meet him, let him interact with Charlotte, and then we’ll see!”

“Blaine…” Tina begins again.

“He’s a runaway, Tina,” Blaine confesses, voice hushed and heavy with concern.  “Seb and I found him on the streets.  He needs some way to get by in life…”

Tina’s face falls into compassion, as Blaine hoped it would, but unfortunately it isn’t the kind that means she’s giving in.

“How does Sebastian feel about all of this, Blaine?”  Mike asks, his expression unreadable.  “I can’t imagine he’d be okay with taking in a homeless boy.”

Blaine avoids his eyes, looking down into his coffee mug.  “He, umm… he doesn’t know.  I’ve been hiding him in my room.”

Mike’s jaw drops open, and Tina seems to be gearing up for another tangent.

“He doesn’t sleep with me!” Blaine adds in a rush.  “I mean, he’s been sleeping in my bed, and I’ve been in my study.  So far Seb hasn’t noticed, but I can’t do this forever…”

“No, you can’t,” Mike says seriously, and Blaine suddenly feels the need to shrink away from his disapproval.

Their food arrives and Blaine’s shoulders sag more with each passing minute, sure that only Charlotte’s presence is keeping this meal civil.  He’s halfway through his pancakes before someone speaks again.

“We’ll do it,” Tina says out of nowhere, looking at Blaine and deliberately not at her husband.  “We’ll meet him, at least.  But I want you to tell him first, see if he’s interested in the job.  And we’ll give you a list of expectations to pass along, just so everyone’s clear.”

Mike is staring at his wife like she’s grown a second head, but one glance between them and he turns back to Blaine and offers a tentative smile.

Blaine can feel the hope blossoming in his chest, and he smiles brilliantly.  “Thank you.  You’ll love him, I promise. This means a lot.”

Tina nods at him, taking her husband’s hand, and Blaine has never been so grateful to have such good friends.

*******

Kurt is sitting shirtless, cross-legged on the bed, a worn novel in hand and the remains of a bowl of cereal beside him on the nightstand.  He’s been here for more than a week now, but the luxury of having a comfortable place to sleep still hasn’t faded, and he’s more than content to be holed up in one room for a little while longer.

Especially when Blaine is sharing it with him.

He’s just finished a chapter when the door cracks open, Blaine’s now-familiar face appearing.  Kurt beams at him, closing his book and rocking back and forth as he enters.

“Hi,” Blaine offers softly.  “You’ve been okay here?”

“Yeah,” Kurt says, “but where did you go?”

“Yes, umm… we should talk about that.”  He pauses, looking uncertain, and Kurt gestures impatiently for him to continue.  “Kurt… we both know you can’t stay here forever, and I know you’ve been looking for a job, but that’s kind of hard when you’re trying not to be found.  So I went to see some friends who might be able to help.”

Kurt’s eyes widen comically.  “You know someone who can get me a fake ID?”

“No!” Blaine says too-quick.  “Well, yes, but that’s not where I went…”

“Then what?” Kurt asks, scooting back and patting the empty space he’s made on the bed in front of him.  Blaine takes a seat awkwardly, mimicking Kurt’s posture.

“It’s a job opportunity,” Blaine begins slowly.  “Just… how do you feel about children?”

Kurt frowns.  He’s not really been around children much, but has vivid memories of one particular occasion when Rachel invited him to babysit with her.  The eight-year-old had purposely spilled Kool-Aid on his designer vest, and the toddler had thrown up on his shoes.

Then again, he doesn’t have much of a wardrobe to ruin anymore.

“I really don’t have any experience,” he answers honestly, then shrugs.  “But I’d be open to learning.”

“There’s only the one kid… a little girl, Charlotte.  She’s eighteen months and really sweet.  Mike’s my partner with the café, but Tina’s a corporate lawyer, so there should be good money in it—enough to get by.  If they like you.”

“That… doesn’t sound so bad.”  A job is a job, after all, and Kurt needs one badly.  He offers Blaine a smile and is pleased when the tension on Blaine’s face melts into a grin of his own.  Unable to help himself, Kurt launches across the short space between them, throwing his arms around Blaine’s neck.

“Thank you,” he says earnestly into Blaine’s ear.  This close, he can smell the raspberry gel that tames his curls.  The scent is familiar now, comforting, and he lingers in the embrace.

After some hesitation, Blaine’s arms close around Kurt’s back, hands gentle and cool against his naked skin.

Kurt wishes he could stay here forever.  

*******

A few days later Kurt is standing next to Blaine in the Changs’ foyer, looking far more confident than he feels… or at least he hopes he does.  Blaine, in contrast, stands awkwardly, as though he isn’t quite sure what to do now that these two parts of his life are coming together.  He hastens through the introductions.

“Kurt, this is Mike, my business partner, and Tina, his wife.  They’re my best friends.”  

Kurt smiles, reaching out his hand for them to shake and trying not to rudely direct all his attention to Charlotte, who is cooing from her playpen a few feet away. 

Tina gestures towards an over-stuffed sofa set.  They sit: Kurt and Blaine on the couch, Tina and Mike across from them on the loveseat.  Kurt can’t see Charlotte anymore and thinks that it’s probably a good thing.  For a kid, she’s actually kind of cute, and he wouldn’t want to get distracted.

“So Kurt…” Tina says, a strained smile on her face.  “Tell us about yourself.”

Kurt smiles back and takes a deep breath.  “Well, I’m seventeen…” he begins awkwardly.  “And I, ummm… I’m sorry, what exactly is it you’d like to know?”

“Blaine tells us your father passed away, and your Aunt wasn’t exactly… _accommodating._ ”

“ _Tina!_ ” Mike hisses, sending a sharp elbow into her rib.

“No, that’s okay,” Kurt assures.  “He… he had a heart attack, a few months ago, and we waited but he just… never woke up.”  He pauses, squeezing his eyes shut and willing his voice to steady.  “I was sent to live with my Aunt.  She… was under the impression that I could be ‘fixed’ with Church and ‘some proper discipline’.  So I left.”

“I’m sorry,” Tina whispers, looking slightly ashamed, and Mike offers him a small, sympathetic smile that Kurt tries his best to return.

“It happens,” he dismisses with a shrug.

“Kurt, can you tell us what experience you’ve had with children?” Mike asks.

“Well, not a lot, really,” he answers honestly, hastening to add, “but I spent the past couple days in the library reading parenting books and magazines, and I think I learned a lot.”

“Oh?  So what are your preferred theories and techniques of discipline, then?”

Mike is looking at him like he knows the question is a lot—a challenge—and Kurt scrambles, trying to remember anything he read, or even passing opinions he’s had, that might sound convincing.  “I think… reality-based is good.  Like, natural consequences.  Oh, and also rewarding positive behaviors, especially with young children.”

“I see,” Tina says cryptically, and Kurt has never felt so much like sinking through the floor.  “And what, for example, would your typical day be like?”

“Other than the usual changings and naps and meals—which, I’m not a bad cook, by the way.  And I’m a bit of a health nut!” he waits for her nod to continue.  “We would probably go on walks in the park, maybe to museums and stuff when she was a little older.  I read that it’s important to expose children to new environments and experiences, and fresh air is supposed to be healthy,” he studies their faces carefully as he speaks, but neither Tina nor Mike gives anything away in their expressions.  He steals a glance at Blaine for the first time since the conversation began, and Blaine smiles at him encouragingly.  Instinctively, Kurt reaches over to take his hand and squeeze it in thanks.  “That would be the mornings.  In the afternoon, after a nap, I could read to her, or we could do puzzles or play with her toys, maybe watch educational movies if you have any?  If not, there were some good ones at the library, I think.”  He finally stops, takes a deep breath, and waits for judgment.

“Kurt,” Tina continues, “it’s important that our child’s caretaker have training for any medical emergency, though of course such a thing is rare,” her last words are punctuated with what is clearly a warning look, and Kurt has to remind himself not to get intimidated.  Blaine warned him that Tina can be a little… _severe._   “Would you be willing to take a class?

“That was also emphasized in the stuff I read.  So, yeah, of course.  I’d want to be prepared.”  Kurt frowns, wondering how he will pay for the training, but he can’t worry about that now.  If they like him, if they give him a chance in this world…

Finally Tina smiles, and Kurt thinks it might be genuine (if he isn’t projecting too much hope,) but it’s Mike who speaks up next.

“What hours would you be available?”

Kurt shrugs, relieved to finally have an easy question.  “I’m wide open, really, the only thing that might have any sway is the subway system, depending on where I end up living…”

“Good,” Tina says, then looks over to her husband.  They don’t speak, but Kurt can tell they’re having a detailed conversation with their eyes.  He sits anxiously, hands twitching with the need to do something, feeling like a criminal waiting for the jury’s verdict.

Suddenly he feels a thumb brush reassuringly over his palm and startles, looking to Blaine and feeling a blush rise to his face.  He hadn’t realized they were still holding hands.

When he turns back again, Tina is watching them with a troubled expression.  Kurt gulps.  That can’t be good.

“So, Kurt,” Mike begins.  Kurt really wishes the man was easier to read.  “We’d like to offer you the job.  On a temporary basis, of course, and dependent on Charlotte liking you. And you’d need to pass the CPR and First Aid class, which we would pay for.”  He stands, finally smiling in earnest for the first time since they’d met.  “Why don’t you come and meet her with me, and we’ll discuss the details?”

Kurt sighs in relief, feeling his shoulders relax as if an invisible weight has eased.  “That sounds great, yes.  Thank you!”  He stands to follow.

Charlotte is staring at him as they approach, eyes wide and chin slick with drool, but she quickly turns her attention to her father as Mike lifts her into his arms and babbles at her, both their faces lighting instantly in childlike delight, and Kurt’s heart leaps in his chest at the sight of it.  He glances behind him at Tina and Blaine, who are now sitting together on the sofa, leaning close and speaking in hushed voices.  He strains to hear what they’re saying.

“…he’s a good kid, Tina.  I haven’t had any problems with him.”

“Yeah, _a kid_ , Blaine.  You need to remember…”

And then a squirming toddler is being pushed into his arms, and Kurt happily switches all his attention to her.  Calling to mind any scrap of observation he’d ever made about interacting with kids around her age, he twists his face into what he hopes is a comical expression.  When Charlotte mimics the behavior he can’t help but grin, and to his delight Charlotte copies that too, her hand coming up to touch his face.  Kurt leans forward on instinct, nuzzling their noses together, and Charlotte squeals sharply, the sound breaking away into a giggle.

Maybe kids can be a thing, Kurt thinks.  There are far worse ways to spend his days.

He looks again at Blaine, who is smiling now, chuckling at something Tina has just said.  Suddenly he turns and their eyes lock, neither one hurrying to break the contact.

Kurt can think of better ways, too.


	3. Kurt vies for a kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do apologize for the long delay in adding to this story. Hopefully it helps that the "chapters" are essentially one-shots. I'm on no kind of schedule for this - I more or less write when the urge hits - but I can promise that I have definite plans in place and will not abandon this story. I appreciate each and every one of you who read it!

Kurt has long considered himself to be mature for his age.  He’s certainly been through enough of the types of experiences that force one to grow up far too quickly, and he isn’t stupid; he’s studiously learned every lesson life has thrown his way.  He’s strong.  He’s resilient.  He has been, up until recently, steadfastly self-reliant.

Blaine Anderson makes him giddy as a middle-aged school girl, makes him want to blush and giggle and flirt in ways that aren’t the practiced ones of his short-lived profession.

Kurt wants Blaine to kiss him.

It isn’t that Kurt has never been kissed before, because he most definitely has—by a girl and by a bully, by men who purchased his body and his time.  But he’s never had a kiss that _meant_ something, and he knows somehow that if Blaine kissed him—even with Blaine’s boyfriend and Kurt’s age and his past still between them—he knows kissing Blaine would mean _everything_.

He makes the plans of an adult and schemes like a child.

For once in his life, Kurt Hummel is determined to have the thing that he wants.

*******

It doesn’t work.  None of it works.

Not the mistletoe at Christmas time—Blaine just flushes and brushes his lips across Kurt’s cheek.

Not the short play Kurt writes and forces Blaine to act out with him.  Blaine plays his part with perfect grace, a humorous air of drama; he flirts with Kurt and twirls him in a dance, stares into his eyes and declares his undying love.  But he bumbles when it’s time for the kiss, has them start over, then says his character seems too charming to rush into kissing, and lifts Kurt’s hand to press his lips to Kurt’s knuckles, one at a time, while Kurt’s heart pounds so loudly, he fears it will burst through his chest.

Not on Valentine’s Day, when Kurt shows up at Blaine’s house late at night after a disturbing round of texting, after Mike and Tina are finally home and Charlotte is safe in her bed.  Blaine is alone and clearly drunk; he pulls Kurt into his lap and cuddles him and rants and cries about Sebastian until he finally falls asleep.  Kurt hauls him to bed, curls himself around Blaine’s body and stays there as long as he dares.  He leaves the card he brought on Blaine’s nightstand after debating with himself for at least twenty minutes, then darts out of the house, out onto the darkened street and into his borrowed car before he can change his mind.

It’s a week later, and he hasn’t seen Blaine since.  There had been a text, just one, that read “Thank you <3”.  It made Kurt’s ears go pink, and he couldn’t bring himself to reply.

But it’s been a slow day at the coffee shop, and Mike called to ask if Kurt would mind bringing Charlotte by for an early lunch.  He knows Blaine will be there, but there’s no way he can say no.

Charlotte is fussing in her stroller by the time they arrive, and Kurt is quick to pull her out, bounce her on his hip, certain he knows the source of her distress.  He tries to be discreet when he checks, and yep, he’s right.  He glances around to spot Mike at the counter, fixing some drinks for an elderly couple.  Mike smiles and waves, and he returns the gesture, then hurries Charlotte straight into the back room, diaper bag in tow.

She cries the entire time he’s changing her, but he smiles and coos and cuddles her into his arms when she’s clean, and finally she’s calm, beaming and babbling and grabbing at the buttons on Kurt’s shirt.  Then her eyes catch something over his shoulder, and she squeals, squirming in his arms, so he sets her down. 

Charlotte makes a beeline for the doorway, but when Kurt turns around it’s not Mike who’s standing there, scooping her up.  It’s Blaine.

Blaine whose eyes are glued to Kurt, even as Charlotte tugs at his curls in search of attention.  His eyes and soft smile are warm, affectionate in a way Kurt hasn’t quite seen from him before—not with this level of intensity—and Kurt feels heat rising to his face.

“Hello Kurt,” Blaine says.

Kurt shivers, answers breathlessly, “Hi.”

Blaine’s attention finally switches to the toddler, and Kurt’s not quite sure what happened.  He stands there awkwardly, watching them, for what seems like forever, until Mike finally appears and takes Charlotte from Blaine.

“How’s it going, Kurt?” he asks, even though they just saw each other this morning.

“Great,” Kurt answers, relieved at his presence.  Mike is wonderful—friendly, responsible, always calm.  He and Tina demand a lot from Kurt, but they give a lot in return, and after the first few days of adjustment, Kurt has never found cause to be uncomfortable with them.  “I just changed her.” 

“Wonderful.  I thought I’d take her to the Thai place down the road for lunch.  They have a children’s menu, even a small play area.”

Kurt and Blaine exchange a look, and Kurt can tell that Blaine, like himself, is struggling not to laugh.  Tina and Mike have something of an ongoing battle—Mike wants their daughter to be submerged in Asian culture, and Tina is adamant that Charlotte be kept away from it.  Truth be told, Kurt is certain it’s really Mike’s mother Tina is set against.

But Kurt bites his lip and only nods, handing over the diaper bag and kissing Charlotte’s cheek before he places her back in the stroller and they’re off.  Kurt and Blaine are left alone; Blaine is once again staring at him, and Kurt is avoiding his eyes.

The ding of a bell resonates through the tiny room, and Blaine looks back out to the counter with a sigh.  Kurt can just make out the woman standing there, waiting (probably impatiently) to be served. 

Blaine turns back to him.  “Have lunch with me?” he says.  “I can make us some sandwiches.  Lucy will be here any minute for the afternoon shift; she can cover.”

Kurt slides his palms down the thighs of his too-tight jeans; they suddenly feel slick and tacky.  “Yeah,” he says, stuttering, unable to think.  “Y-yeah, that sounds, I mean, that would be great.”

“Great,” Blaine echoes, and moves out front just as the bell chimes again.

*******

“You’re really good with her,” Blaine says, handing Kurt a large blueberry-pomegranate smoothie as he takes the seat across from him.  “Charlotte, I mean.”

“It took a while, but I like to think the two of us do well together,” Kurt agrees with a gracious nod, forcibly tamping down the urge to preen at the praise.  “But I’m not the only one—it’s clear she adores you.”

“I’ve been around her since she was little, so,” Blaine says, picking up his sandwich, and Kurt does the same.

They eat in silence for a few moments, Kurt’s mind racing along with his heart, because this is different somehow, and he doesn’t want to tempt fate but he thinks he _knows_ how.  It seems unreal.  He’s been pursuing Blaine for so long now, unable to help the affection, the adoration that pools in his stomach and squeezes at his heart each time they share space.  He just wants to be noticed, to be acknowledged, because he may be young but he’s _not_ stupid; he knows something’s there.

And then Blaine’s fingertips brush his own where they’re splayed on the edge of the table, curl around them and lift, pulling his hand forward so that they’re interlocked, resting an equal distance between them.  It’s startling, stunning, and Kurt looks at him with too much hope.

“I missed you this past week,” Blaine says.  “I suppose I’ve gotten used to seeing you more, and after last week… well, I’m sorry for that.  And grateful.  And I feel so much…. closer… to you now.”

Kurt doesn’t really know what to say, but he blurts out, “Me too,” before he can stop himself.

Blaine smiles, squeezes his hand, and says, “I’m glad,” so earnestly that Kurt feels his pleasure flush clear to the tips of his ears.  “I was wondering, well, if you’d maybe like to do this again”—he dips his head to indicate the table—“somewhere nicer, though.  Or we could do something else?”

Kurt has to bite back the urge to ask if Blaine is asking him out, because he _knows_ , his whole body is alight because that’s clearly what Blaine is asking, but it simply seems too good to be true.  “What about Sebastian?” he asks instead.

As much as he wishes Sebastian didn’t exist, that Blaine was single and free to be only his, it would be a stupid complication to ignore.

Blaine’s brow furrows, and the bow of his mouth dips into a frown.  “If Sebastian can sleep around, then surely I can date around.”  Blaine’s free hand folds around his, and Blaine tugs his arm even closer, his thumb brushing over the whites of Kurt’s knuckles.  “Don’t worry about him, Kurt.  This is about us.”

Kurt takes a long slurp from his smoothie, swallows his hesitance down with the slush.  “Why now?” he asks, because Blaine is far from ignorant, and Kurt wants and deserves to know.

Blaine sighs, but holds his ground.  “Because of last week.  Because of today, seeing you with Charlotte.  Because I’ve always known that you’re more than just a boy that I…”

“…That you rescued,” Kurt finishes gently, and Blaine nods.

“But mostly… mostly because I think I’m ready now, and I’m tired of holding back, and I don’t _want_ to wait.”

It’s Kurt who nods now, almost diplomatically.  He takes back his hand, returning to his sandwich, carefully avoiding Blaine’s eyes.  “This isn’t going to be something simple,” he says when he’s ready.  “It’s not going to be easy.”

When he glances back up, Blaine is smiling softly, sitting back in his chair and just _watching_ Kurt.  “Maybe not.  But I think in some ways, it could be the easiest thing in the world.”

As they finish, they talk about Charlotte and coffee and bad TV, and then Blaine has to get back to work.  It’s only minutes later that Mike returns with Charlotte.  He looks apologetic as he hands her over, something that looks suspiciously like peanut sauce stained in blotches up and down the front of her dress.  Kurt only tuts, making her giggle sleepily, and carries her into the back for a change.

She’s half-asleep against his shoulder when he emerges, and it’s evident the lunch crowd has officially hit.  Kurt catches Mike’s eye as they head out, lifting Charlotte’s hand in a wave, and Mike waves back, winking. 

When Kurt tries to put Charlotte in her stroller, she stirs and starts to cry.  Eventually he gives up, exasperated, and places the diaper bag in the stroller instead, maneuvering it out the door with Charlotte in his arms and a little help from a friendly stranger.  They’re halfway down the street when Kurt feels someone touch his arm, sees a hand reaching out to grip and halt the stroller.

It’s Blaine, of course, smiling and squinting at him in the sunlight.  People mill around them, many looking annoyed, and Blaine’s still wearing his apron, which looks about ten times worse than Charlotte’s dress had twenty minutes ago.

Kurt’s both perplexed and a little annoyed.  He lets go of the stroller in favor of placing his hand on his hip, giving Blaine a look that demands answers.

“Can I?” Blaine says, looking shyer than Kurt has ever seen him.  It’s adorable.

“Can you… what?” Kurt asks curiously.

Blaine smiles, chuckles, ducks his head and shakes it.  And then before Kurt can even begin to process what’s happening, he shuffles forward and tilts his head.  His lips meet Kurt’s—briefly—a soft, easy pressure that is too soon gone.  Kurt stands there, hefts Charlotte further up his hip, and touches his free hand to his mouth, staring blankly ahead.

“You kissed me,” he says finally, and Blaine laughs.

“Yeah.  Yeah, I did.”  His fingers curl around Kurt’s elbow, and Kurt can only blink at him.  “See you Tuesday night, Kurt Hummel.”

By the time Kurt can move again, Charlotte is antsy.  Reality is dawning, and it’s _good_ , so good.  He stands there in the middle of the sidewalk, laughing while people glare, and watches Blaine’s ass swinging back and forth as he walks away.  Joy is slowly and restlessly beginning to unfurl in his stomach, traveling forth to tingle to the very ends of his limbs, and for once, Kurt trusts that it’s here to stay.


End file.
